I want to remember always, so I keep the pace slow. Rachel looks like she’s drugged, in the best possible way.

“Is that all you’ve got? Husband?” Rachel says, voice rough.

I laugh. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for. When I pull out again, I stop at the tip, and pump into her just like that. “Ahhh,” I say, trying to control my voice but having a hard time at it, “you want more?” It’s excruciating to stop fucking her, but I’m a gentleman, and I’ll give the lady what she wants.

I grab her by her ribs, and I flip her over. I gather her hair in my fist and pull her head back. My mouth skirts over her pale, long neck before I take her again.

I’m inside her before she can open her mouth to say another word. Animal possession roars inside me. She dared me to prove it, and I will. I fuck her, pinned to the bed, my fist tangled in her hair. I fuck her so hard the bed moves on the hardwood floor. My face is close to hers, my mouth at her ear. Rachel’s eyes are locked on mine, drenched with lust and pleasure. Exactly the look I love on a woman’s face when I’m inside her. My hand slips to her neck, and I can feel her pulse fluttering under my fingertips.

There’s a deep, feral part of me that wants to punish her for all the grief she’s caused me. But I also want to make her scream my name so loudly that the whole ranch hears that she’s mine.

Leaning down, I brush my mouth where her neck meets her shoulder. I’m acting on instinct now. Driving deep as I drag my teeth over her pulse. I’m not squeezing, and I never would, but she can feel the danger. She gasps when I bite down, thrusting harder as I mark her, claim her. Mine.

“I’ve got more than enough for you, wife,” I say. Shit, that word feels good in my mouth. I can’t stop saying it. Can’t stop pushing deeper into her pussy. “More than you’ll ever be able to handle.”

She reaches one hand behind her, and her fingernails dig into my skin. I relish the tinge of pain. “You have no idea what I can handle.”

“Let’s find out.”

And then I really fuck her. I thought I had been, but it’s nothing like this. Raw. Animal. Primal. The sound that builds in my throat is one that I’ve never made before, and one long cry comes from Rachel. I need to see her, so I pull out for a second to flip her on to her back, and then enter again. She’s no longer scratching me, she’s clinging to me now, holding on for dear life as I fuck her. One hand stays on her neck, needing to feel her heartbeat, and I brace the other on the headboard, using it do drive into her, and drive the bed into the damn wall.

Every movement of my hips grinds down into her clit, and I see it—feel it—when she falls into ecstasy. Her legs go limp on either side of me, and her whole body shakes, her pussy squeezing down on me like a vise as she screams.

I can’t hold myself back, white hot pleasure blazes through me as I drive myself to the hilt and hold myself there, filling up the condom as the waves wrack my body until I’m entirely spent.

It takes long minutes before I can see again, and it feels like waking up from a dream, tangled in limbs and smelling of sex and glowing in pleasure and barely remembering how I got here.

Slowly, I release my hand from her neck, dragging my hand down her chest intentionally. She makes a sound that makes me freeze when I untangle from her. It’s one of pain. A sound that she meant to hide but couldn’t.

“Shit,” I say again. “I shouldn’t have done that. Not after the ride.”

She smirks, even though I can see the pain in her eyes. “Just a different kind of ride.”

“I should have known better,” I laugh softly.

“I dared you,” she says. I raise an eyebrow, and she doesn’t look away. “I don’t regret it.”

Gently, I slip away from her. “Don’t move.” Knowing what I do of the woman in my bed, I don’t actually expect her to listen, but I’m not sure that she’s even able to stand at this rate.

In my bathroom, I throw the used condom into the trash and splash some cold water on my face. I fill the tub with hot water and dissolve a few cups of Epsom salt. Ranch life is hard, and soreness is a part of it, but she doesn’t know that, and I made it worse because I couldn’t control myself.

“You fall in?” she calls to me.

“You wish,” I tell her as I walk back out. I’m still naked, and so is she. I pause when I exit the bathroom, giving her the total view, and I drink her in, too.

She’s perfect. Pale and curvy and utterly sexy. Her hair is wild, spread across my pillows. I know that when I go to sleep tonight that I’m going to smell her, and my mouth waters at the thought. I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells?

I reach out a hand to her and say, “Get up.”

“Ready for round two?” she says, smirking.

I smirk back. “Always. But you’re not. Now come on now, just listen to me. Out of bed.”

Rachel frowns, crosses her arms over her chest, and makes a little hmph sound in her throat. I resist the urge to pin her down and fuck her all over again.

Instead, I lift her off the bed, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her skin on mine. “Where are we going?”

“You need heat,” I say. “And some Epsom salt.”

The surprise when I lower her into the bath is genuine. “You drew me a bath?”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

She blushes.

Вы читаете The Bad Boy’s Bride
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